Life with Puss

[muckefuck]

My crack-addled citrus continues to go gangbusters. If this were like last year, I'd come home to find the house delicately scented with lemon blossoms.

Instead, it smells like fish oil.

Early this morning, it was so strong that I was convinced the cat had barfed somewhere, so I turned on the lights and looked in all the likely spots. (Cat vomit is not something you want to put off discovering!) I didn't find anything, but I'm far from convinced the reason is that there's nothing to be found.

At least her appetite seems to have returned, so it won't be like last time when I feared she'd starve to death on my watch. Of course, this only makes the mewing outside my door at four in the morning all the more puzzling.

Also, she bit me--on my feeding hand! Clearly, cats have no use for bromides.

Comments

[that-dang-otter.livejournal.com]

You'll probably hate me for saying so, but our Meyer lemon tree, which is about eight feet tall, bears hundreds of pounds of fruit over an eleven month period. When things are really lean, in November, sometimes I actually have to step off the deck in order to pick one. Oh, the hardship!

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

There's no hate. We're not in competition. Y'all get to grow your own lemons; I get snow. It's a tradeoff I'm quite happy with.

Now, if you had an indoor tree like that, then I'd be jealous!